Elanrandir's Horizons
by jm10
Summary: A man leaves Minas Tirith, with the burden of the past and fear for the future. A tale set at the end of the third age during the war of the ring.
1. Chapter 1

Eldric turned on the grass and propped himself on his elbows, his features softened as he stared deep into her eyes, smiling he whispered...

"Pimpinella, your sapphire orbs are dimmed, no more do they dance alive, there is something dark shadowed in those mirrors were light once used to rule my breathless heart, tell me what is wrong"

She smiled at her dear hobbit, for a moment making him remember the shire rose he had grown to love beyond his life, then just like the fading light over the Delving fields, a sorrowful sunset veiled over her...

"I saw more this morning Eldric, they are leaving us. They care no more for the troubles of Middle Earth"

He briefly nodded, knowing in his heart that her words ringed with the sharpness of truth, and yet there was so much more that even she could not guess, ever more frequently he had seen them in his hunting travels through the Shire's forests. Elven wanderers slowly making their way towards the Grey Havens, destined to leave forever Middle Earths shores into the unknown west. Softly, trying to reassure he carried on…

"It is the call of the sea Pimpi, their hearts are swept by the rolling surfs songs, like a lovers caress that will never ebb, so to them that tide draws their hearts into its arms"

Pimpinella laughed despite herself, her bright blue eyes sparkling alive…

"Oh you are terrible, cannot you say anything without ever trying to turn it into a poem my gallant hunter?"

He grinned ruefully and shook his head, his voice ringed with a mischievous edge to it

"No! You are my rose, the fairest blossom ever to be breathed alive from the shires gardens bloom, you are my goddess enshrined in the beauty of her temple for my eyes to fall in worship and so it is my right to let my lips slip free the warm breeze that will fan the shivering flutters of your beautiful heart"

Eldric breathlessly stopped and stared deep into those eyes that so shone true his hearts dreams, slowly his familiar impish gaze returned to him. She shook her head even as a blush crept through her cheeks…

"Oh stop it! You are impossible!"

"Aye I am and your blush is but the warm flow of your heart touched, to shade your cheeks the hue of a dawn's spring sun, a sunrise that I yearn will never suffer a sunset's death"

Pimpinella smiled, warmth returning to her eyes as she gazed back into his eyes, those eyes that could be so seriously strong and yet so emotional too. He was both a grown up hobbit male and an irrepressible young tween, softly she whispered back at him..

"No Eldric, it is more than the call of the sea…I am so scared"

Eldric stared silently at her; even as the sunset faded into the creeping night, he saw fear and worry mask her face into that nightmare that chased her. Slowly her haunted voice whispered into the stillness of the shire night…

"There is a storm coming and everything that is beautiful will fail, Eldric the Shire will burn and there is nothing we can do to stop it from happening"

Her voice faltered just as two crystal tears furrowed down her cheeks, catching the moonlight, gleaming pearls of pain flowing a river down her flesh.

Eldrics heart stopped, her own words echoed those very fears that were each day fed more with a growing despair, a despair which he had bravely fought to keep hidden deep within himself…slowly he raised his arm and curled a finger under her tear and even as his ebony eyes lost themselves in her agonised ones, his lips moistened with her souls flood. He smiled as her eyes brimmed with something more than pain and sadness and his voice though soft was edged with an inner strength that she could feel…

"They say whoever kisses a tear kisses a heart, for is not a tear just a shiver of a hearts emotion"

"Oh Eldric" she stammered, her voice catching.

"You don't believe me…you think I am a scared weak lass who has lost her mind with fanciful tales…y-you and your stupid poetic words!"

The moment her words spurted out, a deep pang of regret seized her, as her eyes fell on his wounded gaze, swiftly from the ground her arms wrapped around him and fiercely held on, tightly, nothing could have torn him away from her that very moment…

"No..no, no!"

Eldric sighed. His heart echoing into the life of her own flesh, his words muffled by her own heartbeats…

"Shhh shhh..you do not have to say anything my shire rose, I know from where your words ebb from and they are not from your heart, Pimpi, you are no weak angel. You are the strength from which I find my own…without you my dawn, I am just a lonely flicker of light lost in the darkness of an endless night"

She smiled silently, knowing that he cared enough to save her from the nightmares of her own guilt. Suddenly she frowned as he swiftly got up from the cushioning grass and nervously stammered, a sudden fear engulfing her...maybe he had lied, maybe she had really hurt him…

"W-Where are you going? Don't leave me! Not now!"

Eldric turned and stopped, his gaze soft on her who claimed his heart as its home…

"To find answers"

Answers? From whom? What answers?"

Eldric's smile slowly faded into the encroaching darkness, his voice whispering back…as he run into the shadows

"From my secret"

In his mind he saw him…even as he raced towards the forest beyond the Delving fields…Elanrandir


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you know what they are master hobbit?"

Eldric looked up, shaking his head in disgust at the tall figure that stood over by the campfires far side…

"What? By a thousand curses you stupid tower! You have not been listening to me have you?"

Elanrandir smiled, unseen from the hobbits eyes, as his own deep grey freckled eyes gazed yearningly into the stars. For a moment just the crackling of the fires embers disturbed the silence of the clearing…then his soft strong voice sang into the night…

"Those stars, they are the shivering crystal tears that she the moon sheds for an impossible love, she dances alive the satined darkness through her hearts agony, and we below just stare in breathless awe at her beauty…and pain"

The hobbit gushed out an exasperated gasp and stammered…

"My gaffer was right, you humans are all mad as a Took! I should have reported you to the Bounders the first day I met you…what was it last week? Saturday?"

Elan chuckled almost silently, his eyes still lost high in the stars, slowly replying back…

"But you did not, did you little one?"

Eldric dismissed him with a wave of his hand, but the shadow of a smile softened now the hard lines in his lips,

"Bah! At least I have not the cheek to claim I am not mad too!"

This time Élans' soft chuckle ringed out, twining with the hissing fires music. A few seconds passed, this time both man and hobbits eyes staring into a clear moonlit sky

"She is so near to his fiery arms, and yet so far, almost reaching and yet never touching in their sky's home. Her silver flesh has ever yearned for the warmth and love of his hearts fires and yet in a cruel whim by the gods, sometimes in a sunsets fade, they are both set low in the sky…staring into each others hearts. Then even the sapphire sky taints crimson with the silent shrieks of agony from his heart. The blood of a sun whose fate sinks him below the horizon, to die before a night, a night where she rules, alone and in endless tears"

Silence….silence under a shires night, just a fires song, and then a hobbits voice

"Elan...why are you here?"

Elanrandir finally turned. His grey vivid eyes, brimming with light piercing into the little hobbits features…

"Through a dream from my Captains Lord…and his whispered words….Halflings….Isildur's Bane.

Eldric looked at him with a queer look for a few seconds and then snorted…

"Halflings? You mean us hobbits? Are you saying that I am half size? And who in the great Took's name is this Isildur and whoever or whatever baned him?"

The hobbit stood up, his hands on his hips staring at Elan with a defiant expectant gaze…

Élans' lips curled in a soft humorous smile. His arms waving the hobbit to sit. There was a sparkle in his eyes as he calmed down the hobbit…

"Peace, peace… oh mighty hunter, I mean no harm to you and your people. You should have felt that in your heart already"

His smile grew broader as his eyes caught the hobbit impishly making faces at him, he had trouble himself from keeping his voice serious…his thoughts racing..

_Even in the darkest hour of men, there still comes a time to smile_

"Don't get angry at me…it is not my fault the hobbits of the Shire have forgotten the great tales of Elder days gone by, great deeds were done and yet we are still held bound by what was left undone"

Slowly Élans' eyes returned to the stars…The hobbit was about to burst out an exasperated gasp, when a thought suddenly struck him, and his hardened lines softened…suddenly, his voice was just a whisper carried by the breeze..

"What is her name Elan? The woman whose eyes you search for in those stars?"

The mans face flinched, as if he had been hit, a mask of agony veiling over his face and now those eyes that stared long and far into the heavens were brimming, with wounds that still tore ragged furrows of blood from his hearts flesh, softly his voice changed…

"My people, we gave names to those crystal tears to honour her pain…and in time, we named ourselves after them…you see? They believed that when our time is over, and we have journeyed beyond our destiny's horizons, we return to our own star, to shine in eternity within its starlight, a star child lost in the shadows of the night"

The hobbit smiled and nodded, sometimes his friend left him without words, he could only breathe out…

"She m-must be so b-beautiful"

Élans' musical voice broke the silence and its dream

"I don't search for her eyes, I search for her soul… she already shines down her light on me"

Even as two crystal tears streamed down a mans face, a little hobbits hand had grasped his own…and joined his eyes to gaze at the stars, Eldric squeezed his hand and whispered gently…

"Don't worry Elan, me and Pimpinella, we will take care of you"

Elanrandir turned his eyes towards his small new friend, a faint smile softening the unwelcome tide of bitterness that had surged with renewed strength and he nodded silently. Amused by that unexpected remark, yet touched by its sincerity.

There by that small glade under a copse of tree's canopy, a man and a hobbit still kept their risen eyes in homage to a moon that rides chasing those lost tears, fruits of her heart. The dying fires embers hissed a welcome sound that gave a melody to those unspoken thoughts that remained unsung, till the hobbits voice broke the silence, holding onto the mood that hung over them..

"Elan why did you really come here? You told me you were from Gondor no?"

Elanrandir smiled and nodded silently in reply

Eldric shook his head exasperatedly, the man seemed not to be too forthcoming in enlightening his mystery, not that he knew if that was a trait common to men folk, for the reality was that even if Elan chose to be a closed book, the hobbit had seldom any dealings with his kind, so as to be able to judge him. And yet just barely minutes before, Elan had lowered his guard, revealing the pain that still furrowed deep jagged wounds on his heart. The hobbit persisted, his voice just growing an edge

"Look here sir, there is back there a young lass who I think the world about and she is mightily scared, and you know what? I believe her! Oh I know we Hobbits care little for what happens outside our borders, we care about our own little things and yet it's those little things that make life important, no mister?"

Elanrandir nodded in confirmation. His grey freckled eyes keenly studying the hobbit even as a fresh spate of words burst out...

"So you come here saying mad things about Isoldors and if you think we Halflings were his bane, well I will kick you out me self from the shire! Got that sir I come from Gondor?"

Elanrandir chuckled as he corrected the hobbit, his eyes gleaming with amusement

"Isildur not Isoldor"

Eldric retorted back, though his anger was just as swiftly abating already

"Yeah yeah whatever! Isildur the baned"

For a moment they both stood staring at each other, a smile that even then bridged the gap between races and mistrust, till Elanrandir's voice quietly broke the spell...

"And no master Eldric, I did not say the Halflings were his bane, even though now it seems the Halflings hour has come, and you are called to those halls where great deeds are fashioned in brave hearts"

Eldric giggled, seeing himself as one of those great heroes of legends and somewhat mollified snapped back...

"So you better start talking and give me answers or this great hero hobbit will cudgel your thick head to reason!"

For the first time both man and hobbit grinned at each other, Elanrandir lifting both his arms in a calming, teasing manner..

"Listen here little one, I too have many questions and few answers to give, but trust me, not all knowledge is welcome, there are things in this world you are better off not knowing. You would not thank me for bringing shadow and fear to your heart, but even so I believe you speak wisely. Let me tell you a tale, of the strength of men and their weakness t-"

Suddenly Elanrandirs eyes opened wide, his countenance reflecting the sudden shadow that had pierced his heart, with a swift downwards motion, he urged Eldric down into the grass, right hand grasping his swords hilt.

Both their destinies now would be woven into the weave that fate had brought to bear on them, for the great tide that had surged ever since on the quiet of the night, Elanrandir had slowly ridden out of Minas Tirith's great gate, now reached its ebb. Things were about to change.

Elanrandir shrunk into the grass. His unsheathed sword glinting by the sparse sprinkling of moonlight that filtered through the overshadowing trees, his will sagged by the dread that enveloped him, the same dread that had overcome him that cursed day that would forever haunt his living days. The same something was out there beyond the copse of trees, an essence of pure evil that brought the stench of decay and death.

His mind struggled to understand, to find a way to deny the unbelievable truth, the truth that was the portend of doom, nevertheless the truth he had been willing to risk the only thing he had left to give, his soul for. Even as his head turned, worried eyes searching for the Hobbit, he kept holding onto the same words over and over in his splintered mind...Isildurs Bane, Halflings...Mordor has come.

His eyes met with the sight of the hobbit pressed into the dew moistened grass, hands clenched over his head in agony, the same agony that his own soul was torn by, then a snort, a horses snort just barely meters away, the darkness that seemingly swallowed the night with its hunger was nearer. Suddenly like a man awoken from a nightmare, where he reaches into the senseless, broken images that hold no meaning, sensations break into his mind. The sound of hooves clatters the eerie silence, another derisive snort just over him and now, when even death seemed a welcome escape; a few words are kindled from a spirit that re-forges embers of hope...fire, fire is the friend of those lost in the dark.

Elanrandir's left arm slides through the grasp, fingers clenching into the campfires kindling's, just as his mind registers the rasping sound of cold steel sliding free of leather, his legs spring him up, his own blade arcing over him. The shadow of a horse by him, a rider blacker than the night leering over him, then the clang of steel against steel...he uses the momentum of his parry to turn his foes blade aside and swivels anti clockwise, left arm swinging into the turn. The burning log strikes into the rider's side sending flaming tongues that lick devouringly into the rough cloth, quickly followed by the horse's panicked neigh and an even chillier unearthly screech explodes, riveting his senses. Only then as his eyes take in the fleeing horse, and the flaming figure on top, does Elanrandir sink his knees into the ground, exhaling a rasped breath.

Eldric rises sensing the dread lifting its terrible weight of him, and nervously stammers..

"W-What was t-that thing?"

Elanrandir having already risen and sheathed his sword, heads towards his horse, soothingly whispering calming words into its ear,

"Elan please! Answer me!"

The man sighed as he stared deep into the earnest Hobbits pleading face and softly whispered

"It came from Mordor Eldric, now please strike the fire whilst I look for something, do not fear, I will return"

The hobbit shook his head as he watched him disappear into the undergrowth and let out a deep breath, his voice strained as seldom his nature had allowed it to be...

"Oh my, by the bullroarer what is happening?"

Finding that the chore he had been bidden to do was a timely and welcome distraction from his confused thoughts and the certain knowledge of how close he had been to death, or to a fate worse than death he mused, Eldric industrially applied himself to starving the crackling flames out. After a few minutes he turned in alarm, hearing the rustling of some bushes and he looks with heartfelt relief at the man returning, an expectant gaze flushing over his relieved features...

"Well?"

Elanrandir permitted himself a faint smile, marvelling at the nature of this Hobbit, nothing seemed could forever dampen for too long his bubbly nature, and responded. More light heartedly than the gravity of the situation demanded...

"Well I found his tracks, that thing was heading east, now let me ask you a question for the first time if I may, what lies east?"

"Oh well more hobbits surely. Lots of villages and taverns too! Hobbiton, Bywater and a few others, then more west you get to Brandyhall and the old forest, but I never been to a tavern there!"

Elan smiled and nodded as he unravelled free his steeds reins and swiftly mounted, hearing the hobbits sharp protest..

"Hey where you going man folk?"

Elanrandir was about to retort something suitable about the Hobbits incessant questions, when he frowned, realising that he needed this Hobbit, there was no way he could just enter any of the shire's villages and calmly inquire, a look of anguish grimaced into him, and even as his heels spurned his stallion on, he silently pleaded for forgiveness. Passing by the astonished hobbits side on the gallop, an arm shot out and lifted him, dangling him by the flank.

"Whoaaaa! Put me down ! put me down!"..Screamed the startled and angered hobbit.

Elanrandir lifted him and sat him on the saddle, in front of him, even as he galloped into the night.

"What are you doing you great lumbering oaf? Let me go now at once you are in trouble now just wait you just cannot kidnap a hobbit here you know?"

Elanrandir smiled and spurned his horse on, whispering behind the fidgeting hobbit

"I thought you were a hunter little one, we are going hunting"

"What?"...came the surprised gasp from in front...

"Hunting? What we hunting? You dollop!"

The man's smile faded, a grim look of determination firing his eyes with the dawning glow of forged steel...

"Shadows of death"


	3. Chapter 3

The dusk was creeping in through the western hills overlooking Hobbiton and through the lengthening shadows any passing Hobbit would have raised an eyebrow inquisitively at the sight that befell his eyes, a man, sitting by a campfire roasting a venison joint? How queer he could have mused, shrugged and moved on minding his own affairs.

Elanrandir smiled as he turned the joint; at least he thought the hobbit would be glad to learn that starving him was not one of his cares. Not that Elanrandir had any pretence that feeding the hobbit would be an easy task! He chuckled softly within himself, by the white tree! These hobbits have an insatiable appetite! By now he was getting used to Eldrics frequent calls to stop and have a snack, though the idea of what Elanrandir considered to be a hasty snack vastly differed from the hobbits mid morning tea, elevenses, and other well appointed feeding frenzies.

Elanrandir grinned ruefully knowing that at least this time it had not taken much to convince the hobbit to proceed on his mission, what the hobbit himself termed as finding out if any queer going on had occurred. Oh no! Not after he subtly whispered that a tavern was such a natural environment for the art of gossiping, in which to carry out his inquiries. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, holding no doubt the moon would be high above the night sky's cradle before one, ale intoxicated Halfling returned.

Elanrandirs eyes stared deep into the dancing tongues of flames that wove ever increasing shadows over the small clearings space, memories that another fire rekindled in him, that last night in that city, in which forever his heart would dwell.

Elanrandir stood to attention. His eyes roving from the warm log fire back to his captain..

"My lord you summoned me?"

Faramir peered up from the scroll he was studying, and smiled in recognition…

"Ahh yes Elan, you should inform the men, we are departing at dawn, we shall ride to Ithilien and establish our refuge at Henneth Annun"

Elanrandir frowned narrowing his eyes at this news and hesitantly whispered…

"But Captain what about that mission you confided in me?"

Faramir paused for a moment studying his erstwhile young officer's face. Then carefully responded...

"Elan my father has made his choice, a wise one I suppose; my brother will depart for Imladris and not me"

Faramir sensed the dismay in Elanrandir's face and swiftly carried on..

"Do not dishearten Officer of Gondor, we have won a great victory in retaking Osgiliath, in no small measure due to Boromir's prowess, I would have been a fools choice Elan, my brother was ever stronger than I could be"

The young officer flinched, feeling the real pain and worry in his captains voice his own response, hardened by the love and admiration he felt for his lord...

"You lie sir"

Faramir's eyes looked sternly at him; never could he have ever imagined hearing those words from the officer of his guard, from the Rangers of Ithilien's own captain and he swiftly rose from his chair, his eyes narrowing across the table at Elanrandir

"Forgive me my lord, but I will not let you slander the finest man I have met. Even if the one you slander is your own self"

Faramir's expression softened, seeing with his own eyes the determination that glinted from the young officers eyes, a thin smile led to a brief nod of recognition of what Elanrandir had intended with his words...

"Nay Elan, it is I who should ask for forgiveness for trying to hide from my most faithful friend the truth that shadows my heart, yes I fear for Boromir and I fear for the fate of Middle earth, I distrust my father's intentions concerning Isildur's bane, even if it pains me to say so"

Elan sighed and inhaled deeply, knowing his next words would be treasonable and yet his heart bade him measure them in his voice...

"Faramir, my lord, you must go yourself, too much depends on it, I know your brother, a strong man, a good man too, but I fear this will be a sore trial for him, one I believe you are stronger to face"

Faramir's keen eyes delved deeper into his officers own imploring eyes, till he softly shook his head...

"Nay Elan, I cannot disobey my father and renounce the trust our people have on me, we must guard the passes from the Morgul vales, you know too the penalty for treason, my life would be forfeit, yet what compels me to obey is not fear of death, but the knowledge that my people will need me before the darkness finally envelopes our lands"

Faramir paused, then carried on...

"If my father's dream is true and the one ring has been found, then wiser people than my own blood should decide its fate, our blood should not fail again Elan, just like Isildur failed, the ring should be destroyed forever under the fires of Mount Doom, now the question is what has my father asked of Boromir? To what purpose is he riding to Rivendell for?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered. Just the hissing logs responding to the silence.

Elanrandir's thoughts raced, torn between the loyalty he felt for his captain and the despair he knew that held Faramir in its deathly grip, and slowly caught between the hammer and the anvil, the unthinkable began to be forged in his soul. Faramir could not commit treason; the steward's son was bound to his father's choice. Yet there and then Elan knew he had no more any choices left, his path had been set for him, till that last tomorrow that dawned over his destinies horizons. He must tread first through its sunset. Elan would be the one to commit treason and forfeit his life, and walk into the darkness. Suddenly Elans thoughts were shaken away by his lords concerned voice...

"Elan how do you feel about returning to the forbidden pool? Arana lies there, she would never want you to fail"

Elanrandir stiffened, the familiar agonised surge that flooded a drowning darkness into his heart gripped him and flowed through those words that left his lips...

"My captain I will never fail my duty to you"

Even as he said that he felt guilt, knowing the path he had committed himself too, even then Faramir was walking towards his side and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, his voice gentle and worried...

"Elan, my friend, I did not mean fail in your duty, she loved you like seldom love can live in a heart, she would not yearn for you to fail and give up on love, remember that"

Elan swallowed hard and nodded, trying to stare away from his Captain. Less his eyes betrayed his feelings and softly whispered...

"My lord I must warn the men"

Faramir smiled and nodded...

"Go to your duty son of Gondor"

Elan saluted and turned, heading towards the door, suddenly he paused, turning back, staring at his captain...

"My lord!"

"Yes Elan?"

"My Lord I could never serve a better man, I just wanted you to know that!"

Faramir smiled and nodded, motioning him out with his head..

"Now go and rest, I will see you at dawn, have everything ready"

Elanrandir turned and walked out of the room, and for the last time in his life, left the side of Faramir, son of Denethor, Captain of Gondor.


	4. Chapter 4

Elanrandirs thoughts were torn away from the fires flames and his memories, by a slightly drunken hobbits voice...

"Oh good, a pre supper snack"

The man's troubled eyes turned to welcome the return of his small sized companion and his harrowed look faded into an expectant stare as he whispered...

"Well?"

The hobbit more or less ambled over to the fire and sat down crossing his sturdy legs, hungrily devouring with his eyes the venison leg, his demanding tone, quiet evident..

"Well? Well slice me some of that deliciously roasted meat"

Elan groaned and very determinedly pointed at the hobbit with his right hand..

"First talk then eat!"

In response the hobbit gifted him a glorious scowl followed by solemnly thought out words...

"You are a horrible man you know that?"

Elanrandir spurted out derisively an exhaled pfttt! Then allowed a grin to mischievously soften the hardened lines of his face as he replied sarcastically...

"I am definitely evil in personification, poor Halfling, the whole world would pity you, and after all you have only eaten about six or seven times today, what a shame you must be close to starvation by now!"

Eldric stared at him open mouthed then guffawed and fell back onto the grass, giggling as only the hobbit kind can, Elanrandir grinned amusedly, unable to hold long his temper against the Halfling and mused about how long it would take for his patience to run out. Eldric's giggles slowly died, till he managed to lift himself up again and now fully composed he started to babble...

"Well you horrible starverer of Halflings, the Green Dragon at Bywater be a charming cosy tavern, well frequented by its patrons, mind you the local brew is quiet excellent, it brings to the taste the savoury texture of golden hops and—"

Eldric!"

Elan had cut him off, debating whether to throttle the hobbit now, after supper or mid-night snack, or even before bedtime titbit nibbles.

Eldric looked at him poutingly and somewhat mellowed carried on...

"Gandalf was seen around here just a few days ago"

The man's eyes widened in surprise, this was quiet revealing, slowly pieces were fitting into the puzzle that his mind continuously churned upon..

"Mithrandir!"

The hobbit gazed thoughtfully for a few seconds then replied convincingly...

"No Elan, no one mentioned Mitha-whatever"

"Nay, that is the name by which Gandalf is known to the elves and to the men of the west, other names he has, given to him by other folk. One I like myself is the grey pilgrim, for that is his burden; to be a pilgrim amongst the free peoples of Middle Earth. A pilgrim that brings a message of hope in the darkest of times my little friend"

Eldric nodded and carried on...

"No one can do fireworks like Gandalf can! I don't know about hope but light the sky he certainly can! Now do not interrupt me for there is more"

Elanrandir bade him to carry on with a gesture, which the hobbit instantly grasped to dramatically lower his voice in a secretive manner...

"It seems that Gandalf's appearance is linked to the sudden disappearance of a very well known hobbit around these parts, fuel is added to gossiping tongues by the fact of who he is, none other than the heir of the original mad Baggins himself; Mr Bilbo Baggins!"

The man frowned, narrowing his eyes in a deep concentrated look and then softly whispered...

"Forgive me my dear Hobbit but I am not well versed on the colourful history of the Baggins, could you graciously enlighten this lumbering oaf? A title which you have endearingly awarded me"

Eldric paused to the usual giggle and teasingly obliged him...

"Of cause of cause Sir Lumbering oaf, say no more, I will indeed lore you with our rich history"

Elanrandir smiled as the hobbit pursued his history lesson...

"Many many years ago it seems that Mr Bilbo Baggins esquire set off on a mad adventure, as he himself later termed it I might add, with a company of Dwarves and Gandalf himself. Naturally each and every self respecting hobbit consigned himself to never ever seeing him again, so you can imagine the surprise when indeed Mr Baggins returned and not only returned, it was rumoured he had a great treasure of innumerable wealth, gifts from far off kingdoms of Elves and Dwarves"

The man's face grew ever more attentive with each passing word...

"Well Mr Baggins retired taking in a distant relative as his heir, this Frodo Baggins who now has disappeared mysteriously, but going back to the mad Baggins, it was well known that he had secretive dealings with all manners of strange folk, including Gandalf. Dwarves, Elves would he meet on the Shire's borders and no one could ever say that he was not treated with a great respect by these outlandish folk. Anyway a few years back Mr Bilbo celebrated his one hundred and eleventh birthday; a great many hobbits were invited to this feast, and feast it certainly was! Yours truly was there! And the fireworks by Gandalf that night will never be surpassed! Well after a few hours of intense and serious eating, came the after dinner speech, and listen well Elan, for I was there and saw it with my own eyes, Mr Baggins said a few nice words which none of us could fathom and then vanished in thin air! Yes he vanished and since then has never been seen again! From what I have gathered Mr Frodo was a very well respected hobbit, even if he showed some of the more extravagant traits of his ancestor, that was, till two nights ago, now all Hobbiton and dare I say the shire too will be soon gossiping about his own disappearance, so that is that Sir lumbering oaf"

The seconds passed in silence as Elan's eyes were lost within the weaving flames, his heart echoing frantically with the images from the past that suddenly he had found a meaning too, that faded scroll, written by Isildur's own hand. That scroll his lord Faramir had bade him read, about how the ring lost its fiery markings as it cooled down, away from the dark lords flesh, and how the one ring had the power to make its wearer invisible. Whirling thoughts spun in his mind, Mithrandir, Bilbo's adventure, a great treasure, and now Frodo Baggins, the Halfling, Isildur's bane.

From the distant recesses of the whirlwind that had caught his mind, he heard a plaintive voice far away...

"Can we eat now? I am famished"

Elanrandir's thoughts raged onwards, driving him through the dark tunnel, which in his mind seemed to have no end, yet now there was a faint glimmer lighting the way ahead, could it be?

He had forsaken his people, knowing in his heart that Gondor's fate would soon face its ultimate trial and he had cursed himself forever with the shadows of treason. Just to pursue the barest of leads into these lands, even leaving Minas Tirith before Boromir had set forth on his errand, commanded by his father's will. That at least one of the Nazgul was hunting the Shires lands was evident, and where there was one, so could the others of that vile breed be found, the question was, what or who was their prey?

Could the one ring have been hiding all this time in the unthought-of till now, remote Shire? The possibility was shattering, yet now tangibly lingering in him, casting both its dread and hope. Elan looked thoughtfully at the fretting hobbit, could it really be that his kind now held the threads to an unknown future firmly in their weave? The loneliness, the helplessness and hopelessness of his course was like a bitter draught that chilled the life of his heart and yet he knew there was no other course than the one set before him.

Eldrin sighed and shook his head, staring at the man's distant eyes. Elan was such a mystery to him, with his secrets, his pain, sometimes he would let down his guard and return to be the man he was, before the shadows of the past had claimed him, smiling and teasing, those eyes shining with life. Eldric's eyes lowered down, feeling pity for this warrior, burdened with the loss from the past and yet he knew that the time for answers had come, softly he whispered...

"Elan, clearly my news has struck something in you, if you want me to help you here in the Shire, it is time you told me everything"

The man glanced keenly at the hobbit, as if weighing in his mind his options and then gently nodded, when suddenly the hobbit's startled, fear filled face, warned him, swiftly rising, a sword unsheathing, glinted the moonlight off its steel edge and Elanrandir of Gondor stared into the shadows that slowly came to life as they crept through the undergrowth, into the fires light.

This time there was no unnatural fear, just the fear that every warrior faces the first few endless moments before he meets his foe, five men were now slowly spreading around the bushes lining the clearing, their own, hard lined, determined faces staring back at Elanrandir's smouldering eyes, weapons already held in their tight grips...

"Eldric stay back"

The hobbit scampered back, his hand reaching for his bow, quiver hastily upturned, to let a shower of arrows spread onto the grass; swiftly he notched an arrow, his keen eyes searching for a target. Elanrandir calmly raised his sword, bringing the hilt two handed to his face, saluting those foes that outnumbered him and slowly walked into the line that faced him, his sword held at a high guard.


	5. Chapter 5

Eldric's heart leapt wildly, this was not just felling a deer, or snapping up an unwary hare, these were men, intent on harm, and an unwelcome surge of fear threatened to drown his instinctive reaction. The hobbit's eyes darted nervously, vainly trying to select a target upon which to flight an arrow to, his bow fidgeting in his trembling hands in search of a clear shot. Nothing he had ever faced could have prepared him for this trial, a part of him just wanted to run, even in his mind, painful though understandable excuses shielded him from the shame that would follow…

_Elan would have understood, they were five of them! What could he have done? He was just a hobbit! How can a hobbit fight this evil?_

Incredulously he watched the single man take the fight to his foes; Elanrandir was a whirling blur, his longsword seemingly an extension of his arm, which parried those blades that swung at him, using the length of his own blade to turn them aside and leave himself an opening to counter. The southern warrior was not allowing his more numerous enemies to overpower him with a concerted pressing attack, overbalancing each in turn with his swift strokes, gaining precious seconds as the attacker warily stepped back before flinging himself forwards again into the circle of ringing steel.

Somehow and curiously instead of running away, Eldric found himself swelling with a fierce pride for this man from Gondor, a pride that soon gave way to an even fiercer anger towards his attackers. Suddenly Eldric saw the odds lessened, one of the attackers going down with a powerful downwards slash, which left an open bleeding gash from face to midriff.

Elanrandir veered away from his fallen foe, swinging in a circle to face his rear just in time to block a down swinging blow and flick the blade aside, using that momentum to step in nearer and slam his left forearm into the startled face of the man, without pause he pivoted to the left, his battle honed instincts guiding him to face the direction of the next rushed attack.

Any hobbit acquaintance of Eldric would have raised his eyebrows in shock, hearing the exultant growl of triumph escape now from the normally cheerful and pleasant hobbit, and even more shock would have followed seeing him loose an arrow with such burning eyes. A timely arrow indeed for even if it partially missed its aim, it still grazed the man that had been about to stick his sword into Elan's back. The man uttered a pain filled curse, his eyes searching for the bowman lurking within the shadows, cruel eyes gleaming when the expected foe turned about to be a small hobbit. Turning with his sword held menacingly high, he went for Eldric.

Eldric's fingers nervously notched another arrow, but even before he could let fly, he stared as the man's eyes turned vacant and lifeless, an aware Elan had reversed his blade, two handedly, and run him through.

The two still standing attackers nervously watched the braced warrior facing them and behind him, the hobbit, threatening bow at the ready. Three of their colleagues were down, two dead or dying and the third clutching his ruined face. They exchanged worried glances, darting back their gaze to that sword's point that had proven to be their comrade's ruin and falteringly started stepping back. One of them stepping over the injured fellow, without a second thought plunged his sword into the man's back, acrimoniously and abruptly ending the man's wails.

Elanrandir heard from behind the hobbit's shocked gasp, that savage action had riveted him to the spot, enabling the retreating attackers to slip back unhindered into the relative safety of the forests darkness, only then did he lower his sword and inhaled deeply, the tension ebbing from his muscles, only to leave him drained with the realization that those who had attacked them, had melted into the shadows.

Letting a few seconds pass till he was satisfied no new attacks were forthcoming, his inquisitive eyes searched for the hobbit, his concerned voice sounding through the glade…

"Eldric are you unhurt?"

Back from the shadows, the hobbit's smile went unseen, as he sensed the man's worry, finally sealing any doubts he could have harboured about this stranger who had so rapidly changed his life in such an alarming fashion. Softly he replied back…

"Yes Elan, perfectly unhurt, no thanks though to those evil men"

The warrior frowned for a moment, his eyes still labouring over the dead bodies, and then exhaling a deeper breath strode over to the Halfling, kneeling just by him, so his own eyes could peer straight into Eldric's own, his voice once again holding that soft though sorrowed tone to them…

"Do not be so quick to judge evil and good my friend, our enemies certainly they were. But what brought them to this clearing to perform these acts, we do not know, were they acts of necessity? Of simple brigands that know no other life? Or were they commanded by others to do so? Maybe true malice lies in those who force others and bend their wills to their own purposes? Eldric not only orcs fight under a dark banner, many men are held to its call. Maybe even simple men from faraway lands, driven to fight for a cause that is not theirs, can we judge them evil too?"

Eldric's confused and troubled gaze silently replied to the warrior's words, sometimes his new friend could be so difficult to understand, aye the hobbit mused, to thoughtful for his own good, yet on other occasions he was warm and closer to the hobbit's own nature.

Elanrandir studied for a few seconds those unspoken thoughts in the hobbit's look and returned a knowing smile…

"Do not worry little one, I have no answers either to those questions"

Eldric nodded in a quiet unconvinced manner, though managed to offer a weak smile, when he suddenly lowered his eyes and replied with a shamed, trembling voice…

"Elan I almost run, I was scared… I am sorry but it is the truth"

The man nodded and gently reached with one arm to squeeze the hobbit's shoulder, his gesture just as reassuring as he hoped his words would be…

"But you did not run, many would have cowered far more and admitted far less than you have, trust me my valiant hunter, your arrow was probably the difference between my life and death"

Elan paused and smiled and hoping he would get an expected reaction from the hobbit, he added…

"Even though it missed its mark"

Eldric pursed his lips. Lifting up his scowling features back to the Gondorian and retorted half mockingly back…

"Pshaw! I would not have missed had I been sober! You hold some cheek after I saved your life you ungrateful cretin!"

Elan grinned and patted the hobbit's shoulder a few times with his hand then rose from his kneeling position…

"Anyways let us find out if dead men can still reveal some answers. I will inspect them, keep your bow at hand hunter, and a steady hand to go with that sobering eye"

The hobbit smirked grumblingly even as the man walked the few steps towards the bodies, nevertheless paying heed to the warrior's words and kept an arrow strung, carefully peering into the forests dark shadows.

Crouching over each body, Elanrandir carefully searched within the coarse clothing, examining the swords he found them to be crude, workman like weapons, with no style or markings denoting their origin or heritage. The search revealed nothing and left more questions than answers, other than the finding of a pouch containing pipeweed, he was by now quiet aware of the hobbits quaint custom of blowing smoke rings from their lips. Elan smiled, recalling how many times he had shrugged off the hobbit's insistent persuasiveness on the small matter of him smoking some. As far as he knew it was still a local custom that had not spread beyond the Shire or even the near community of Breeland, now that entailed an interesting proposition, for it suggested the man had acquired the habit himself and had spent some considerable time in the shire. Elan pondered the logic behind that conclusion, maybe they were spies searching for something or someone, now the question still unanswered was, for whom were they spying for? The Nazgul? He doubted that, not here, not when those dark shadows where so close to their prey.

Hunched still on his legs he looked sideward's at the attacker who had been killed by his own comrades, clearly they had no intent on leaving behind any injured that might betray them and belied the fear they held for their masters.

Yet amidst all his struggling search for answers, something tangible grew. Slowly in his mind, what had first been vague thoughts, faint threads that seemed had no common weave, started to take form, and a dark shadow crept over his heart, for now he was certain that legends from Elder days had returned to claim their inheritance and the middle earth that had seen them first seed alive, was now destined for the final gathering of its fruits. The age had come, the final battle to claim Middle earth was at hand.

Elanrandir of Gondor rose to his full height, a tall figure garbed in black, whose eyes gazed at the distant Shire's night, somewhere within the darkness of those shadows, Frodo Baggins walked and in his wake trailed the fate of Middle Earth, Isildur's bane had set forth and that was the road his own destiny must follow.

"Eldric if you had to leave the Shire in haste, hunted and chased which road would you choose to travel beyond its borders?"

The man waited, his eyes still searching into the night, till a hobbit's faint voice replied…

" Ummm well then I would not choose the Brandywine Bridge, very foolish indeed I would be going through there! Aha I have it! The Ferry! Yes! Bucklebury Ferry!"

Elan nodded to himself, trusting the hobbit's advice on this and replied…

"Very well, we ride t-"

His words were cut off as Eldric's plaintive wail echoed through the small glade…

"Oh no! no! no!"

The warrior sprung, his sword once more glinting the moonlight off its blade, when suddenly he was stopped in his track, wide eyed, he dimly stared at the dejected figure of the little fellow, staring abysmally at a much cindered venison roast that somehow had slipped of its forked branches and now crackled dry within the flames. Moments passed before the sound of Elanrandir's growing laughter finally registered on the lonely abject person of Eldric, hobbit of the West Farthing, who with an accusing finger scolded the laughing warrior…

"You are a horrible man Elan"


	6. Chapter 6

The sunset was creeping over the distant hills beyond the West Farthing as Eldric leaned against the Ferry's handrails, his thoughtful eyes studying the industrious hobbit that was poling the ferry raft across the murky waters of the Brandywine, cheerfully he chirped…

"Busy are we?"

The Ferry master bothered to turn one scowling eye, which matched his unequally uninterested glance…

"Aye well you could say that, would be better off too if someone had not decided to cross just before sundown if you take my meaning master"

Eldric giggled and then sighed most pretentiously…

"Ahh what a hard life you lead indeed, missing your supper too really must be most unwelcome no?"

The hobbit's mischievous smile spoke volumes as loud as the ensuing retort from the ferry master…

"Oy! Watch your tongue or you going to find yourself stranded on this side of the river!"

Scowling even more those narrowing eyes, he carried on, eying Eldric's quiver and bow…

"Besides folks here don't take kindly to strangers wandering around with them arrows, who you think you are? One of them bounders or something?"

Eldric merrily chuckled, his effervescent nature bubbling forth as always…

"Aieeee! I hunt fearsome coneys for the pot!"

The ferry master smirked and turned back to his laboured poling, muttering something unintelligible about Strange Hobbits and Pots.

Eldric folded his arms, leaning even more back into the wooden rails, rising to this amusing game of baiting the surly Pole wielder and tantalisingly hummed…

"Nice stewed coneys with taters, done in a rich herb sauce, now that is a prized dish, and mushrooms! Lots of mushrooms and bacon! I suppose your Ma is waiting with some supper for you just as delicious, no my good hard working Captain of Ferry?"

The glowering look that Eldric won of the hobbit was a rich reward indeed, one which according to Master Eldric's taste, needed savouring more, indeed the hunter thought, enough to add some salt to spice his sourness even more...

"If you be a good fellow and ensure a smooth sailing I would gladly bag a few coneys for your disposal, a stout hobbit like you should be well fed! The taters I leave to you Captain Sir of this magnificent vessel"

The by now clearly exasperated ferry master decided that the best course of action to pursue would be to channel all his building up rage into the strenuous activity of poling his raft and its insufferable cargo to the approaching western bank. Eldric who it seems had been blessed with that sublime virtue of never knowing when to give it a rest, kept chipping away...

"My, my, I am getting tired just by watching your diligent efforts! A song is what is required to lighten your chore"

The determined look on the Ferry master's face, just focused on the western dock, if anything poling even with more effort, counting the minutes till finally the raft thumped against its moorings.

The dusk started to lose its twilight as the Brandywine Ferry slowly trailed streams in its wake and the echoes of a song as the clarion call of its passage.

"A'poling we go across the Brandywine!

Make haste! Make haste for we need to dine!

A'singing we sing our sailors merry song!

Ho! Captain! Strike the ship's bell a dong!"

Just as the patience of the Pole master was about to run out, the welcome thud of the raft coming against the dock liberated a welcoming sigh of relief from the hobbit, when suddenly he shouted at Eldric...

"Coney on your starboard!"

Eldric whirled in surprise towards the shore, darting his eyes around till he finally and surely, realised that starboard was to his right and indeed the twitching ears of a coney could be spied among the undergrowth...

"Hah! My prey!"

After his eloquent baiting of his fellow hobbit, Eldric succumbed to the success of his own mischievous nature and wishing to brag his own prowess, nimbly climbed up the handrails. Legs well braced atop the wooden beam, the hunter notched an arrow, ready to dispatch his quarry with a well aimed arrow, when an even better aimed pole end deftly nudged his behind, sending a startled Eldric toppling into the shallows.

The ensuing splash not only soaked the master hunter but brought a most satisfying and revengeful grin to the one who had wielded the pole with such fine aim. Even more satisfying to him were his words to seal the matter...

"Oh how clumsy! Seems coney hunters make horrible sailors!"

Elanrandir waited patiently for the hobbits return, sitting, with his back against the single tree that grew in the middle of the sparse clearing. He had selected this campsite due to its proximity to the Ferry, hoping that hindsight would prove its suitable location, for anyone inclined to use the ferry's services from its western side necessarily had to pass through the lane just below the cleft facing off the site.

Chuckling, the man remembered how the hobbit had grumbled when he had requested of him to see what he could find out in the neighbouring community whose chimney smoke plumes could be discerned from here, just beyond the eastern riverbank.

The hobbit had even styled himself as "Slave spy to the lumbering oaf", the truth was, as Elanrandir admitted to himself, was that the little fellow's chatting and bubbly nature brought a welcome relief from the shadows of the past, a past that as always ever returned anew, with the chill of a surging tide's bitterness...

Elanrandir closed the door behind him, he paused with a heavy heart as he took a deep breath. It had been a sore trial to his resolve, to walk among his men, smiling as he answered their questions, men who trusted in him, who though most were older than he, faithfully repaid the trust he deposited on them. He had fulfilled his lord' last order, the men had been warned and the word would spread along the Rangers of Ithilien's quarters, they would be ready to ride at dawn.

Steeling himself Elanrandir headed up the narrow torch lit corridor, even though he had carried out his duty there was one last call he could not run away from, no matter the fresh wounds that would flow from his hearts unhealed scars.

Reaching the door he was looking for, he knocked at it a few times; his urgent low voice rang through the still corridors shadows...

"Uncle? Madril?"

Slowly the door latch clicked and it swung open, the grey gowned aging man smiled as his eyes fell on Elan, even though his long hair was turning grey, there was still strength in that look as he bid his nephew in...

"Ahh Elan it is nice to see you but if you came to warm me about our orders I am afraid to tell you it has been in vain. Damrod has already forestalled you"

Elanrandir shook his head silently as he stepped into the room,

"Very well then nephew, would you care for some wine?"

Madril, Jolrandir's brother stared into the shadowed eyes of his nephew even as he again shook his head, if it could even be possible his look was more haunted than usual. Madril sighed even as he poured a flagon of wine for himself, ever since Arana's death Elan had changed, where once before those brilliant grey eyes had mirrored strength and a great desire for life, now only sorrow reflected its emptiness back from an ailing heart.

Turning back to his nephew the aging warrior whispered softly...

"You look troubled Elan, what is in your mind son of my brother?"

Elan looked into the eyes of the man that had been truly a father to him and softly replied...

"Uncle you must promise me that when I fail, you will take over the position I held, you must be at Faramir's side, he will need your strength as our rangers will"

Elan looked right into the consternation that swept over his uncle's face and urgently carried on...

"Please Uncle only you can promise that, after all I should never have been the one to replace you in the first place"

Madril cut him off, his voice perhaps sterner than he would have preferred, nevertheless his voice matched the growing anger in his countenance...

"Fail? You? Elan you are a fool! Few of us have your strength or your skills in battle and it was I who urged Faramir to name you our Captain, yes I! For I know your worth and quality as leader and as a man!"

Elan raised his voice as all the bitterness swelled through his soul...

"Strenght? Where was my strength that day when I failed her? When the very same day I had sworn to be her all, I only proved my words to be empty and vain! Where were my skills in battle when her body was so cruelly hewn and torn by those savage blades?"

Elan turned away from his uncle facing the emptiness of a wall, where no eyes could mirror the glistening misty dew of pain brimming in his, the ranger's voice was softer, less sharp though edged with pain...

"Uncle I loved her more than life, I should have died there by her side"

Madril sighed audibly, leaving the wine untouched by a table, for a moment just an uncomfortable silence shared between the two men, uncle and nephew, then his own less stern voice broke the silence...

"Elan I was there, no one could have done more than you did to save her, Arana was a ranger's daughter, and she knew the ultimate fate that all of us face, she loved you Elan, just as she loved our people, all of our deaths are sacrifices for the love of our people"

Slowly Madril stepped over closer to his nephew, laying a hand on his shoulder, whispering behind his back...

"Elan she would never have wanted you to die, maybe you were spared because your fate holds another destiny for you, Gondor needs her sons now that the shadows are lengthening and darkness is but a sunset away"

Elan turned slowly to face his uncle and laid his own hand on the hand gripping his shoulder, a weak smile easing somewhat the tension of his face as he nodded...

"Forgive me Uncle; I should not have said those words"

"There is nothing to forgive son of my brother, I know how heavy this loss weighs on your heart and I still know in my own heart how proud my brother would have been of you, Elan my nephew you are so alike him, there is that same strength in you, deep and resolute, there is the banner that will pierce the darkness with its light."

The two men exchanged glances and even stronger bonds were forged in their hearts, for they shared the same blood, the bloodline of the men of the west.

Eventually Elan's words returned, to bridge over what now had been a healing silence...

"Uncle it is just not over Gondor's horizons that this darkness is looming over, the time has come when the fate of our Middle Earth hangs in the slim threads of legends which few remember, and I fear our people have forgotten. You know Lord Denethor's choice; it is not Faramir but Boromir the one chosen to travel to Rivendell, what counsel has he been given?"

Madril took a few steps back, returning the flagon to his hand as he thoughtfully studied his nephew whilst taking a drink before carefully replying...

"Elan I know well your thoughts in the matter, to some your mistrust of our Steward would appear to be treasonable, yet I believe your judgement to be true, but Boromir is a strong man, though perhaps to prone to bend under his father's will"

"Madril you know the words of Denethor's dream, you know what is being sought, and yes I mistrust our lord, once he was a strong leader, now he has changed, he is a man possessed by a strange melancholy, alike a man who has foreseen our doom and yet struggles to find the will to fight it"

Elan paused, lost in his thoughts, and then frowned, staring at his uncle, those whirling thoughts that had suddenly overwhelmed him, clear in his now piercing eyes...

"Unless it is not in strength of arms that he pins his hopes on, but on another darker power which leads only to ruin and folly...could he dare? Could he dare to send his son just for one reason? Has he in his madness fallen over the power that corrupts and has proved to be our people's failing?"

What before to Elan had just been a dark foreboding that had even then brought counsels of treason, now seemed a clear beacon that guided his path towards the north, slowly his eyes once again smouldered with those determined embers his spirit forged, distantly he heard his uncles concerned voice...

"Elan those are matters beyond us, matters which should remain unsaid too, even to me. Elan we each have our duty to perform"

Slowly Elanrandir's smile returned and for the first time that night, that fierce determination set upon his face as he softly and heart fully answered...

"Aye we have a duty we cannot run away from"

Suddenly Elanrandir's thoughts were torn away from the past, for unnoticed the hobbit had returned. The man's eyes widened in surprise as the forlorn soaked figure of Eldric registered in his mind but before he could even utter a word, the hobbit's warning voice stopped him...

"Do not even dare ask!"

Elan rose as he nodded, turning away from the drenched Halfling, his common sense telling him that it would be wise to let his smile remain hidden from the little fellow's eyes, yet wishing to placate his clearly unhappy companion, he warmly replied..

"Well you will be happy to learn that I have a brace of coneys roasting by the fire"

Even as Elan ducked under the well aimed clod of grass, he wondered what had he said so wrong to deserve that.


	7. Chapter 7

Eldric wiped his greasy fingers on a broad leaf, his scowling eyes never leaving the man's grinning face, the coneys had been delicious enough to mollify the sullen hobbit and in between bites he had recanted his tale. At this moment the hobbit bitterly regretted his decision, for ever since Elanrandir had looked at him with that teasing smile.

Rising from the log with an exasperated gasp, the hobbit retorted accusingly…

"Oy! You ever are going to stop grinning?"

Obviously the silent shake of the man's head had an ever present grin somewhat intensified, which consequently brought a glorious and angry grimace from the Halfling…

"Bah! Next time you go spying!"

Elan chuckled and suavely replied…

"But my dear hobbit you take to it as a duck does to water"

The poor Halfling snapped his head back to his mirth filled companion, though prudently, and one might say against his nature, decided for once to let the snide remark pass, so with a disdainful gaze, he just turned his back on the warrior.

The man's grin softened into a smile as he stared at the little fellow, the truth was that Eldric brought a wholesome and welcome relief to the shadows that grieved his heart and that was something he acknowledged with a grateful smile.

For a while just the fire's crackle disturbed the silence as both man and hobbit took to their own thoughts. Eventually Eldric turned and sat back on the log, resting his chin on his hands, the man having followed with his eyes the hobbit, frowned, then knowingly smiled as he noticed his sorrowful and distant eyes. Softly he whispered in a placating tone…

"Do not take it to heart Eldric, I am sure it will be a tale you will soon laugh about yourself too"

The hobbit lifted back his worried eyes to him and shook his head, even the tone of his raw voice alerted Elan to the realisation that there was something far more serious troubling the normally bubbly and cheerful Halfling…

"It is not that Elan"

Elan's thoughtful eyes studied the hobbit till a sympathetic smile softened his questioning look and mindful of Eldric's mood, gently replied…

"You miss her. I can see her in your eyes"

The nod that ensued confirmed to the man the validity of his assumption even as the hobbit sighed deeply…

"Elan she must be so worried, since I left her back in the Delving fields, and that was a few days ago"…the hobbit pointed out before carrying on… "She has no word of me, I know her, she must be worried sick"

The hobbit's words reopened those feelings of guilt that Elanrandir had only managed to quell under the reasoning that there was no other choice than to enlist the Halfling, aye he thought to himself, but the little fellow had done more than enough already to justify that decision. Elan nodded, his eyes mirroring some of the pain that swelled through Eldric's gaze and softly replied…

"You have done more than enough to aid me in what is after all just a vain fool's errand, when the sun rises master Eldric of the shire, you will return to your folk and with my heartfelt thanks"

This time it was the hobbit's eyes that perked, listening to the man's words brought a growing frown that hardened features which before had just been a mask of troubled sorrow. There was an edge to Eldric's voice, a scornful edge on behalf of his friend…

"Vain errands fool you say? Well listen to me now fool"…the hobbit carried on a spate of words… "My eyes have seen far too much already to hold anymore doubts about your words, Elan that thing, that horror in a black horse we met in the Delving fields!"

Eldric paused, the memory bringing back a shadow of dread to his face, till his now trembling voice once again whispered...

"There was an essence of pure evil that quenched in a drowning dark torrent even the flames of my heart"

Elanrandir nodded, the burning brands of his eyes gloaming through the shadows. A single name pronounced by his soft though strong voice...

"Nazgul"

The hobbit inhaled a deep breath as he followed on his thoughts...

"I believe you Elan, somewhere in this woods is a hobbit and he carries with him an unmentionable burden, something so unreal that it beggars belief and yet I hold true your words, for I have no choice anymore. If this evil that hunts succeeds, then I know in my heart this shire that I love will be just a memory in a lost and darkened Middle Earth"

The hobbit walked the short few paces towards the sitting man, who tilted up his head to greet him. There was the strength of conviction in the Halfling's words, and a fierce pride too felt for his companion...

"Elan you are no fool. Sometimes when I look at you, I can see and feel such pain. Yet when one looks closer and deeper into the man, strength is revealed, the very strength that brought you here raises you up to stand against those who would enslave the free in fear and despair" Eldric smiled and his small hand patted the man's shoulder... "You are a good man Elanrandir of Gondor...even for a lumbering oaf"

As Eldric's voice died out the man's features once again softened in a wry grin which gave way to a grateful nod, there was life too in his resurging voice...

"Aye well this lumbering oaf thanks you for your words master Hobbit, but we have yet-"

His voice was cut short as Elan's stallion neighed in alarm, nervously pulling back against its tied reins. Even as he stood up, the same feeling of dread that he had felt at the Delving fields surged anew, chilling him to the very bone. Swiftly he reached towards his mount, even as he patted soothingly his stallion with one hand, the other deftly clasped loose the buckles that held his longbow and quiver. Even as he worked loose the straps, the unmistakeable sounds of hooves reached him, Elan fought the dread that was threatening to overpower him, his heart pounding through his chest, knowing the enemy was near and so too could be the prey they hunted. Holding his bow and a clutch of arrows with his left hand, he turned towards the startled hobbit and lobbed a small leather pouch towards him, his voice sharply hissing...

"Eldric smear that on your arrowheads, it is animal fat, fire is our only ally now!"

The man had to quell the churning pang of guilt that once again reared through him as his eyes took in the terrified and distressed look on the hobbit's face, but he had no time, he knew he must act and now. Racing past the fire he grasped a kindling with his right hand and veered to his right, turning towards the hillocks gradient that led to the ferry lane.

Despite the fear, a sudden sixth sense made him look back, he marvelled as his startled eyes gazed at the hobbit that resolutely was following him, his own kindling in his grasp. Shaking his head and halting him with a flung arm, Elan hissed at him with a sharp low tone...

"No! I need you to command the heights over the ferry! Go to the edge and keep a sharp eye!"

Elan's lips softened in a thin smile as he hurriedly nodded and pointed the way back up to the cliff...

"Now go hunter and may Earendil's star guide your arrows!"

As he turned, Elanrandir silently cursed, hoping he had not led the Hobbit to his death, swiftly the black garbed figure jumped down the last few feet of the hill's rise and sped up the lane in a northern direction. He struggled even as he ran against the dread and fear that seemed to have a will against his intended direction, gasping for breath and pushing against the invisible wall that stood in his way. The sound of horses now became distinctly clear and as he rounded a bend, he came before the ferry that lay a short distance ahead, silhouetted amidst the shadows of the night.

In what seemed an eternal moment his eyes took in those images before him, a group of hobbits could be discerned through the darkness, hastily working at the ferry's moorings and from the west two black riders were galloping straight towards them. Elanrandir dropped the kindling and notched an arrow, angling his bow and lighting its point he raised it to take aim at the dark cloaked figures when with a sickening feeling he sensed the sound of approaching hooves galloping from behind.

In that split second of despair Elan faced the choices he had before him, either turn to meet his foe and abandon the Hobbits to their fate, or stand his ground and accept the probability of his impending death, a grim smile etched the hardening features of his face as he guided his bow to the two riders, even as the arrow flew from his bow, a single word breathed with emotion escaped his lips...

"Arana"

Even as his arrow streaked a flaming path through the night, another burning trail angled down from the heights, both streaks exploding into flaming tongues of fire that leaped from their marks, the nothingness of the dark riders formed by their burning cloaks, only then did Elanrandir of Gondor heed the thunderous sound of those hooves that were upon him and flung himself to his right. The flat of a blade caught his head as the rider swung, riding past him. Elan fell into the causeway by the rivers bank, his head exploding in agony as he fought against the encroaching darkness, weakly he used his arms to push his head above the reeds and peer into the gloom of the river, his last fading vision before his world was swept into shadows was of a ferry raft slipped free of its moorings and sailing away from the bank.


	8. Chapter 8

The narrow lane skirted its lazy way bordering the Brandywine's west bank, it was the second day after the attack on the ferry and a glorious sunshine pervaded through the Shire's early morning hours. A scattering of hobbits ambled their way through the lane, mindful of their own business they just barely paused before the startling sight of the Smokey Black stallion and the two figures that rode it, nevertheless they made sure to regale the horse's occupants a scornful scowl before moving on, undoubtedly they thought nothing good could come from those two.

If anything the look on his fellow hobbits faces amused Eldric even more, making his singing rise an octave every time a hobbit appeared beyond the next bend or rise of the earthy lane.

Elanrandir sighed as he distractedly scratched at the rough cloth bandage that circled his forehead and then patted his mounts flank as it slowly walked up the lane, if anything a vain gesture that attempted to reassure the horse just as much as himself, that hopefully and eventually the hobbit would cease his incessant howling.

Eldric grinned from ear to ear as he waved at the latest hobbit that had stood up from his gathering mushrooms task and somewhat dumbly waved back, the grin turning to a giggle as he cheerfully ended his song, and casually remarked to the man behind him…

"That one can't wait to get back to his gaffer and tell him about us"

The man nodded sullenly and glumly replied…

"Aye soon, as you term these lands, the whole East Farthing will know about us, not to say that those who do not see us will hear of our passing"

Again the hobbit giggled, tittering on the saddle he nonchalantly replied...

"Aye so let them gossip tonight! A good tankard of ale on one hand and a fast tongue breeds a colourful discourse my unlearned friend!"

The man shook his head as his eyes rolled and somehow despite the ringing inside his head had the clarity of thought to refrain from commenting on the hobbit's wisdom, or lack thereof, not that the hobbit gave him any choice on the matter for he mischievously carried on...

"And how be thou swollen head this splendid sun bathed morn my faithful Elan?"

Even though the man's smirk passed unseen to Eldric's eyes, the grumbled tone of his words was enough to bring a delighted chortle from the Halfling...

"It would ache far less if someone had not decided to spend the said morning singing"

Eldric giggled with aplomb and obligingly started another ridiculous song about a cow and the moon leaving an exasperated Elanrandir time to reflect on his own questionable wisdom in having foolishly accepted the hobbit's bait.

The morning grew older and sun climbed higher above the eastern horizons as the stallion walked up the lane bearing its two occupants steadily towards the Brandywine Bridge. If anything the journey proved that the hobbit seemed to have an inexhaustible repertoire and as soon as one song died, another began to sound of his lips. By then Elanrandir of Gondor had long since ceased to even pretend he was listening, or even caring, his determined face just stoically staring ahead up the path. Almost maybe lulled to a dreamy state by the monotone voice of the hobbit, Elan's thoughts wandered back in the past to another sunlit morning.

Elan smiled as at last his eyes found her, for a moment he stayed hidden behind the thick bushes that grew profusely in the vale, eye softening in a yearning look that gazed over her. Arana was clad in a white gown that defined the form of her hips curves, a gentle white caress that revealed those contours of flesh the fabric fell over, her upper body bound under a dark leather corset partly hidden by the long flowing locks of darkest ebony hair. The man stopped almost breathlessly held in ransom by the sight, for standing there in the small clearing she seemed bathed in a golden hue that the piercing sun's rays cast over her. Slowly after a few seconds had passed, Elan stepped over the branched towards her from behind, his voice soft as he spoke before she had noticed his approach…

"Your father would not approve my lady of you being so far from the refuge"

Arana's crimson lips broke into smile as she turned towards the familiar voice, an inquisitive eyebrow lifting teasingly as she replied mockingly, though warmly…

"Oh he would not would he? And pray tell me my lord; are you familiar with those herbs that my poultices require or indeed those that savour your venison?"

Elan chuckled as he reached her, slowly circling around her, light gleaming in those grey eyes that reached out to drown her own emerald orbs…

"Perhaps you had no need Lady Arana, perhaps I have lost the taste to savour anything evermore unless it be the warm moist ridges of your satin lips. Maybe in them lay's my unquenchable thirst"…Elan stopped before her, just a hands breadth away, his own finger curling under the smooth softness of her chin, gently raising her face up to his intense eyes,… "And stop calling me that"

Arana's eyes blossomed full of mischief as she held his eyes for a few moments then abruptly shook her head free and turned against him, her voice tainted with a soft teasing tone…

"But my lord you are now Lord Faramir's right hand, how else could I call you other than by the noble title you so deserve?"…as she ended her words Arana's smile intensified away from Elan's eyes.

Her response won a grin from Elanrandir and the need to move closer to her drew him into her, brushing into her back, his whisper mingled within the scent of her dark flowing locks…

"Do not part in me the blame for my uncle's foolishness Arana. I never asked for such honour"…as his voice died and his last whispered breath warmed the flesh of her neck, Elan felt his body tense, her essence, the touch of her hair on his face, all overpowered him, leaving him weakened. His lips brushed the smooth silkiness of her neck's nape, tenderly mouthing into the warm skin's shivers. He felt her neck arch as his lips gently nibbled the flesh, lips that explored through the contoured curves, till the bewitching song of her risen breath was finally broken by his whisper…

"You have not yet answered my request"…even as his voiced faded, regret flowed through his deep sigh, a regret that increased as he felt her stiffen against him and finally turn to face him. Her eyes softened in sympathy as she gazed into his troubled eyes, yet there was a stubborn determination in her voice even as her slender fingers reached for his cheek…

"No Elan, do not ask of me that, I will not leave for Minas Tirith"…she paused, offering him a comforting smile, her fingers trailing down his cheek… "For I will not be parted from him that has claimed my heart"

Elan nodded torn by the conflict in his heart, for the same love that he bore for her, held him in fear's ransom. Slowly his hand rose to grasp her own hand and lead her flesh to his lips, brushing kisses that left a warm lingering touch in his lips. His fiery eyes gleamed anew with those smouldering embers that his spirit forged deep within his being, eyes that locked right into her emerald eyes and reached for her soul. Arana blushed as that intense gaze delved deep into her feelings; somehow she heard his words, soft though tinged with strength...

"You blush Ranger's daughter"

Despite the turmoil that raged through her risen heartbeats, she managed to breathlessly whisper back...

"The way you look at me tears my defences down"

Elan smiled, touched by the shared intimacy that needed no words, unless it could be said that words are but wisps of feelings, then his face regained that intense stare that held her eyes captured and through his lips breathed alive his emotion...

"I would hold forever your eyes pierced by mine, undressing those veils of light you hold for eyes just with my gaze, till your heart was mirrored naked in them, bare to the warm caress that claims your innermost dreams, I will hold you in my arms where no nightmares could reach you, just the warmth of a dreams cradle will my arms let through to hold your nights sleepless, till a dawn seems but a cruel fate to a night that was yearned to be eternal"

Slowly their forms drew together as they searched for each other's lips, to weave that ageless dance between a man and a woman, lost in the embrace of a kiss.

Maybe it was the sudden realisation that the hobbit had stopped singing, or that his horse sensing the feelings of those it bore, had instinctively stopped its gait, but Elanrandir was forcibly pulled away from his thoughts. There before them stood the twin stone spires of the Brandywine bridge, a crossroads that spanned the river and led to a parting that somehow both man and hobbit had come to dread.


End file.
